Up and Down

I don't mind telling you, my life is totally chaotic right now. Obligatory disclaimer: I realize that chaos is person-specific and that there's always someone more objectively chaotic than oneself.

My husband's parents aren't doing so well at the moment, health-wise. Scott's older than me, and the younger child in his family, so his parents are older than mine (in their mid 80s). He's never been particularly close to them, though they are close-by, so it's causing some novel family dynamics and a certain amount of personal revelation. I mean, the situation is complex.

On the opposite, my kid is not exactly a ray of sunshine. If I never have to ground her again, it will be too soon. Lord, I'm so sick of the attitude, the thoughtlessness. This phase is not unexpected, in the scheme of child development, but I want to flee! I have no aptitude as a parent. I don't judge myself for it - it is what it is. I'm a natural at many things, but not this. I have no passion for the activity. And I'm beaten down by 16 years of standing my ground. Really, I'm tired.

Work has calmed down for the moment but it's a sputtering volcano. I'm less burned out than I was last month, yet I'm still so far from normal - it's like I'm in free-fall.

To add to the fun, I have no idea of what's going on with my fucking renovation. We have a new project manager who's got to do his own due diligence on the basis of newly-completed architectural plans. I won't know till mid June whether he can commit to being finished by December (not that I'll believe him even if he does). Of course, I haven't gone through Committee of Adjustments yet (thanks, new by-law) so I can't permit till I've gained that approval. If I start this reno this year, it won't be till August 1. If I don't, I'll have to live in this house as-is, ever more haggard - the place I mean - till April. FYI, I moved out of this house, mentally, about a year ago.

Every day I come home and see my front garden, the metaphor of my current psyche. It's weedy - so weedy, that my weed-prone next-door neighbours, who finally put in a garden last year, currently have a cleaner front garden than mine. They have no weeds at all anymore (except the hipster kind) and I'm the one who gets judge-y side-eye from the woman 5 houses down.

I'm not even going get started on the liminal backyard.

Then I have to deal with a very administrative task (alluded to previously) which involves assets and citizenship and I'm SO put off by it. I'm struggling with apathy (the result of anger and the utter stupidity of the task).

Everything is creaky and leaky and many of the things that need tending to will not be fixed in the near term.

What can I say? I'm a capable whiner.

On the flipside, I'm also a capable crafter. My creative mind, while not as sharp as usual, hasn't exactly jumped ship. I'm exceedingly grateful for this. Furthermore, physical pain is not a consideration of late. I'm also exceedingly grateful for this.

Yesterday I booked a pretty decadent trip to Montreal and Quebec City at the end of June. Scott and I are going alone. No, the kid doesn't know about it as yet. Don't tell her. She has a new (first) job and a boyfriend and she wouldn't want to join, what with us being there, but that's not the point.

I need to get away. I need to retreat with my husband and the trip we know best involves getting on a train in downtown TO and travelling VIA 1 to downtown Mtl. We'll check into the Gault. Walk to Mile End, then the Plateau. Have dinner at Quartier General with the floor-to-ceiling windows open, saturated in the humid night breeze.

Next day we'll get on the train again and spend 3 hours looking out the window. The view is bucolic defined. If you want to meet Quebec for the first time, ride that corridor. I've booked the seats with the best view. I'll knit - I do that on the train. Scott will listen to music. We'll drink silly little bottles of wine and eat food in squat ceramic plates with tall sides to inhibit spills.

Coming into QC Gare du Palais is truly strange. It''s all kinds of industrial-meets-French-Canadian residential. Graffiti. Grain silos. And then, as you debark into the station, everything changes and becomes chic and clean, much of it crazily old. We can walk to our hotel (the 71) from the station, along cobbled streets of the Old Town. I love that I can make this entire trip without ever setting foot in a car.

I can't tell you how grateful I am to know where to dine. To know that food will be gorgeous. Walking in Quebec is joy. Sitting on a patio, as the sun fades and the streets enliven, is a stunning pleasure. No one knows the summer like the northerners. I suspect my last thought will be of an elegant, cloistered terrace, the air at body temperature, the night-scent of flowers competing with the boozy smell of wine. I'll be eating something sweet and speaking slightly too emphatically about the meaning of the world, truly besotted with my husband, who gives great conversation at the worst of times.

After many days of this, we'll be back on our way to my favourite city. We'll hit the tail end of the day in Old Montreal. We'll try a new restaurant, probably in St. Henri.

In they way it takes thousands of sewing sessions to really understand the craft, it takes many visits to the same destination, to tell the story of a life well-lived. This is why we're getting our asses there as soon as possible. Please stay tuned.

Summertime

Oh, the fall is here, not that I begrudge autumn. It is my fave season though, alas, it fades into winter, which will utterly suck about 5 months from now.

Let's look at a few, gorgeous photos from my summer hols in Quebec. These were taken in Baie St. Paul, a spot whose claim to fame is Cirque de Soleil...

Don't you love that track? It seems to go nowhere and everywhere all at once...

We had one of our loveliest meals here. In fact, it was the scene of the best glass of California zinfandel EVAH. It was chilled within an inch of its life, which seems an impossibility given how freakishly hot it was in BSP when we were there. Honestly, that wine was life-altering, especially as I sipped it under a shade umbrella beside a tributary leading straight to the St. Lawrence. The relaxation almost did me in.

During this road trip we also decided to check out les Sept Chutes. After much traveling and anticipation, we eventually crawled down the penultimate scenic, gravel road for about a thousand miles, our crap-car air conditioner diminishing in efficacy with each revolution. My, we were excited by the anticipation of viewing this natural wonder.

When finally we arrived at the end of the path, we found an unexpected booth, in which an overheated, less-than-cheerful ticket taker once-overed us and said (with nary a second glance): "Trente-deux dollars."

We each of us (Scott, Nicole and I) took a long look at each other as if to validate what we had heard. I mean, we're anglo. No doubt we merely thought she said thirty-two dollars, but we must have been wrong. Those French people speak fast sometimes.

And in a moment out of some kind of low rent comedy, we all said simultaneously (mostly in English): No freakin' way. You want to charge us 32 bucks to see this thing and you didn't even have the decency to pave the road??* At which point Scott took out his PDA and crowed: Look here, I'm checking out the falls for free online! (Torrents of giggles ensued, from the car only.)

The woman was incredulous. I doubt anyone had ever traveled hours in a car to turn around at the gates over a $32.00 surcharge. And the wild thing is, if you know Scott, Nicole and I - and our holiday spendthrift ways - you'd be shocked to find that we'd all agreed categorically to walk away. (Or should I say amble in a compact car with practically no air circulation when traveling under 80 km/hr.) I mean, really, I've been known to pay 32 bucks for a glass of wine.

So the closest I've got to the seven falls is photos on the web. Apparently, I've heard, it looks just like them.

*If you happen to be Canadian, from some locale other than Toronto, I suspect, on reading this, you are thinking something like: OMG, those people from Toronto are so classless. They're as bad as everybody says! Rest assured, it is merely we who are classless. And hell bent on mod cons for fees.

Time Stands Still

This post is brought to you by the Happy Vacationers Society:

Can you see the pool overlooking the St. Lawrence at its narrowest point?? Isn't it awesome?

This homeowner just happens to have a little bench outside of the front door... Technically, we may have been trespassing. S and Nicole rested for a moment. You can't tell here, but they are, um, glowing...

Once upon a time, that cliff was a fortification. Now it's the garden for a B&B. Tourists...

All of these photos were taken on a journey (hellishly hot, I might add) around the outside of the basse-ville (lower town) towards a scary staircase of great views leading to the Plains of Abraham. The photo of the pool (barely visible) was taken in a moment of great courage, though I actually turned around and tried to focus a camera when really I wanted to suck myself to the rickety wooden railing for dear life.

Let me say, it was a gorgeous time.

We Live Like This*

We Live Like This Ginseng Macadamia Bath Gel

(* aka my fave hotel in-room freebie)

You may know that my vacation philosophy is simple: Actively channel your inner-affluent. Big time.

My holidays involve a potent combo of walking (hours a day), dining finely (hours a day), drinking fun beverages (with the eating), people-watching (hours a day), absorbing beautiful scenes, caring nothing for the matters of my regular life (after all I'm a woman of luxury), having scintillating conversation (non-stop), a bit of shopping (natch) and sex (that's as far as I'm going with that one...)

I am restored by beauty and sensual pursuit. The texture of things, the sound (which often overwhelms me), intensity of light or dark and scent. The aptly named We Live Like This manages to capture association it its pretty bottle (not that the photo, above, depicts this particularly well) and the fragrance, while strong, is like nothing else I've encountered. It's sort of floral, sort of spicy, a little sweet. It's the complimentary room product at Auberge St. Antoine, though I buy it at from the concierge in mini and regular size when I stay elsewhere.

That's Where I'll Be...

Photo: National Geographic Traveler
(Am I the only one who's surprised there are no boobs in this photo :-))

No joke peeps, it really looks like this.

Or, if you prefer, like this:

Photo: L-One Sakae Staff Blog

Though thankfully that's not the scene right now!

Quebec City is one of the most historically interesting and flat-out gorgeous cities ever.

The food is awesome. Panache, at the Relais & Chateau Auberge St. Antoine, is where we'll enjoy our first dinner (and maybe others). It's a fantastic restaurant with a truly magical atmosphere.

What makes this trip particularly exciting is that we won't be going with the kid! Don't worry for her though. She'll be in Algonquin Park at an amazing summer camp - one that's totally off the grid. I mean, they use a wood stove to cook, lanterns when it gets dark and they pee in the woods (or in an outhouse). OK, maybe you should worry for her :-)

We had to outfit her for the event - she'll be portaging and camping and living off the land - which, I understood, would cost about $250.00 in addition to the (exceedingly outrageous) cost of the camp. $750.00 later, my husband came home from Mountain Equipment Coop with a kid who can now fall into the lake with all the stuff she brings and absolutely everything will float safely and stay dry.

Let's just say this is about to be the most expensive week of domestic vacation ever. Oh, and the child is going to camp for the next 5 years whether she likes it or not :-)

We're not leaving just yet but I'm getting myself into the vacation swing of things!

This month, while memorable and fantastic in so many ways, has been very tiring. I have been moving at a frenetic pace, it seems, without stopping, for 25 days now and I haven't taken more than a long weekend off since Christmas. Between momentous transitions and guests and 2 birthdays and a school play, party and picnic, I feel I haven't had a second of down time.

I am so happy to see holidays looming on the horizon.

So let's talk about QC - do you have any stories about this great place you'd like to share?